Chapter Text
When Skeppy comes home, sword slung over his shoulder and a saddlebag full of various mob parts in his hand, he is immediately put on guard by the lack of any greeting. Whenever he opens the door, Bad will yell out a greeting to him. Every time. Without fail.
So the fact that the house is quiet and dark when he returns is more than enough reason to begin to worry. He steps into the house, dropping the bag to the floor and ignoring the way its contents spill out across the hardwood. He takes his sword from his shoulder and holds it in front of him defensively, using the dim light from the enchantment to see where he was going.
"Bad?" He calls out, curiosity turning to nerves when he gets no response. "Are you home?" He supposes it's not out of the realm of possibility for Bad to be out and about, but he usually tells Skeppy before he heads out, and he always leaves a note.
Terrifying visions of his best friend lying broken and dead on the floor fill his mind, unbidden, losing his life- even temporarily- to some unknown foe. Skeppy releases a shaky breath, revenge plans already coursing through him. If Bad has so much as a scuff on his jacket Skeppy is going to raise hell.
Skeppy freezes when he hears a sound from the darkened corner of the living room. It... isn’t human, but it doesn’t sound like any mob that he is familiar with either. He supposes it isn’t that strange, there are plenty of half-humans on the server, but the fact that one of them is in his and Bad's house is cause enough to worry.
"Hey!" Skeppy barks, brandishing his sword and hoping he looks menacing enough to scare off the intruder. He is suddenly very relieved he didn’t take his mask off when he came inside. "Who are you and what are you doing in my house!"
The intruder lunges forward, unthreatened by the sword, and pins Skeppy to the ground by his shoulders before he can retaliate. The sword goes clattering across the floor, too far away for Skeppy to reach it even as he stretches his fingers out as far as they can go. The creature above him rumbles deep in its chest, and Skeppy turns his attention back to it, anger turning to cold fear. The creature is hidden mostly by shadow, but the eyes glow white in the dim light. Skeppy worries for a moment that an enderman has gotten into his house, but no. Endermen don’t attack like this, and Bad could have handled it with ease. The creature displays a wicked set of teeth and leans in closer to Skeppy's neck.
Skeppy flinches backward, hitting his head on the floor, preparing to have his throat torn out. He isn’t on his last life, not yet, but Bad will have to come home to his lifeless (and possibly partially eaten) corpse and then help him through the long and painful process of respawning.
He would do it without complaint, Skeppy knows, because he has before. Letting Skeppy sob into his shoulder when the pain became too much, staying by his bedside while he healed, trying to keep him company, only leaving to get food or medicine, crying over him when he thought Skeppy was asleep. He doesn’t want to put his best friend through that again.
It seems as though he doesn’t have a choice, though, as the creature puts its warm mouth on the space between Skeppy’s shoulder and neck. Skeppy tenses, waiting for the killing bite.
The teeth press into his shoulder, and Skeppy wishes the creature would just get it over and done with rather than taunting him like this. ‘ Playing with its food ’ says a dark part of Skeppy’s mind, making his stomach turn unpleasantly.
The creature closes its jaw, and Skeppy shouts in pain, strangled and afraid. The creature pulls away from him like it had been burned, leaving Skeppy unpinned. He immediately scrambles into a sitting position, hand pressing onto his shoulder, which is… bleeding a lot less than he originally thought. It actually doesn't hurt too bad either, most of the initial pain came from fear. It really isn't worse than being nipped by an overly excited dog. Skeppy pauses in his desperate attempts to flee from the creature, instead staring at it in bewilderment. It’s staring back at him worriedly, and its eyes keep flicking to his shoulder, which will stop bleeding in a few minutes. Skeppy is still waiting for the next attack. He wants to get up and get his sword, but he worries that moving will provoke it to attack him again. He swallows his nerves and slowly reaches for his bag, pulling out a couple of torches and placing them beside himself. The creature makes a face and squints in the sudden light, but doesn't run or attack him, so Skeppy is counting this as a victory.
With the newly created light source, Skeppy is able to get a look at whatever it is that is in his house. His eyes flick to a wad of torn fabric on the ground, newly illuminated in the torchlight, and a wave of hot rage overtakes him as he recognizes it as Bad’s coat. He wouldn’t part with it unless he was forced to, always complaining about the cold, even in summer. If it’s lying here on the floor, torn to shreds, Bad nowhere to be found… then something must have happened to him.
This thought gives Skeppy the motivation to scramble to his feet and grab the sword from the ground. He turns to the creature, and his fury must show in his posture because the creature scrambles backward and up the wall. It tucks itself into the rafters like a pigeon and Skeppy hears himself shriek in frustration, swinging his sword wildly at a support beam and prying it loose again.
“You son of a bitch! What did you do to Bad?” Skeppy shouts, anger and fear for his friend mixing into a horrible cocktail of emotions within him. The creature stares at him blankly, long limbs tucked underneath itself. It cocks its head, blinking wide eyes, and Skeppy pushes down the thought of ‘ Aw, it’s actually kind of cute,’ that rises in his mind unbidden. “Where is he!” Skeppy screams.
An arrow whizzes into the room from behind him, burying itself in Skeppy’s shoulder blade. Skeppy yelps in surprise and pain, stumbling forward. He had left the damn door open, and a skeleton had wandered in. Skeppy hoists his sword up, ignoring the way his back pulses with pain at the movement. The skeleton doesn't stand a chance, not with the rage coursing through Skeppy at the moment.
Skeppy doesn't even get a chance to take a step forward before a large, dark shape leaps over him and lands on the skeleton, crushing it beneath its claws. The creature holds the thrashing skeleton down and bites its neck in a cruel parody of what it had done to Skeppy not even a minute earlier. The skeleton’s neck snaps easily, and the monster goes limp, turning into a pile of dust and a couple of bones.
The creature huffs, seemingly satisfied that the mob is dead, and then turns and locks eyes with Skeppy. He freezes under the creature’s stare and then throws himself backwards when the creature moves in his direction.
Unfortunately, the creature is much, much faster than him, and Skeppy has barely moved a foot before he is knocked to the ground, a large, clawed paw pressing down on his head. The paw holding him down is larger than his entire head, and that realization makes Skeppy shudder. He supposes that he is lucky that the creature pinned him on his stomach rather than his back, as that could have pressed the arrow all the way through his torso, and that would definitely have killed him.
He waits for a killing blow once again, waits for the creature to put its teeth around his neck a second and final time. He waits for the creature’s pressure to increase on his head until his skull cracks, he waits for it to take a chunk out of his side, but none of that comes.
Actually, now that he thinks about it… the creature is being surprisingly gentle, despite how much it outsizes Skeppy. It is barely exerting enough pressure to hold him down, and certainly not enough to hurt him. Its claws are stretched carefully away from Skeppy’s face, and it hasn’t tried to hurt him yet, the small bite mark on his shoulder non-withstanding.
The creature grabs hold of the arrow between needle-sharp teeth, and although Skeppy can't see it with his head being held on the ground, he can tell that the creature is being gentle. The creature’s grip tightens, jostling the arrow slightly, and Skeppy lets out a sharp breath. The creature whines empathetically in response and pulls out the arrow in one swift motion.
Skeppy shouts in pain, nails digging grooves into the floor, and the creature lets go of his head, making small noises of distress at Skeppy’s obvious agony. Before he can get his bearings and breathe through the immense pain that comes with removing an arrow, the creature is grabbing at him again, this time holding him close to its chest, lifting him off the ground as it draws itself up to its full height, which is very, very tall. Skeppy would absolutely love to kick and scream and fight to get down, but he is still very busy not passing out from the pain of getting an arrow ripped out of his back.
The creature is making noises in his ear, and once the pain begins to fade and allow his other senses to return, he recognizes that the creature is shushing him . Skeppy has a few seconds to feel bewildered before he realizes why it’s so soothing. It’s exactly what Bad does when Skeppy is injured or sick. Skeppy freezes, still dangling in the creature’s arms.
The pieces begin to fit together, Bad not being at home, the torn coat on the floor, its vicious attitude towards the skeleton, but exceeding gentleness towards Skeppy.
“Bad?” Skeppy asks, voice trembling slightly. The creature- Bad doesn’t respond, only sets Skeppy down on the floor. His legs give out from under him, his body still not caught up from this new discovery and the sharp pain in his back. He doesn't manage to hit the floor, Bad grabs the back of his hoodie the way someone may scruff a kitten and hoists him to his feet.
When Skeppy is sat back down on the floor, he does not crumble, instead only stares dumbly up at the- at Bad, who is now easily twice his height. Maybe twelve feet tall. Or he would be if he was not crouched over on himself, head up in the dusty rafters. His legs have extended into what resemble goat’s hind legs, and his arms have elongated and thinned, growing claws on the joints, like a bat with no wing tissue. His horns are much longer too, twisting upwards and scraping the ceiling. The claws that had held Skeppy down not minutes ago twitch anxiously at Bad’s side. Despite how… different his friend looks at the moment, this confirms Skeppy’s suspicions. Bad has a habit of twitching his fingers at his side whenever he was nervous or overwhelmed. This is his friend.
Skeppy steps forward hesitantly, hands drawn up to his chest in an instinctive display of nervousness, reassured when Bad doesn't run or attack him. He touches his friend’s hand, much larger and much more dangerous than when he had last seen it, but still his.
Bad does nothing but cock his head and let out a small ‘mrrp?’, reminding Skeppy of the cats that wander the villages. Skeppy laughs, a breathy puff of a thing, but a laugh nonetheless. Bad then moves forward at a speed that Skeppy could not hope to avoid and headbutts him in the chest.
Thankfully for perhaps all of Skeppy’s organs, the horns miss him completely, though the force of the headbutt does knock him to the ground. He hits the wood flooring with a small ‘oomph’, as his breath is knocked out of him. Bad seems to take this as an invitation to curl around him like an overwhelmingly large cat. Skeppy laughs loudly, running a hand over his friend’s head. Bad adjusts their position so that Skeppy is being held under the arms. Bad’s hands are large enough to wrap around his chest and overlap, and for whatever reason, that drags a childish giggle out of Skeppy. Bad mimics him, a rumbly chuckle coming from his throat.
Bad stands, taking Skeppy with him and leaving the masked man with his legs dangling in the air. Skeppy doesn't resist this time, instead sighing exasperatedly and allowing Bad to hold him like a child holding a cat. Bad walks over to Skeppy’s bed, elongated legs allowing him to cross the room in only a few long strides. Skeppy sways with his gait, only having a moment to worry about the stability of his bed before Bad throws himself on top of it, thankfully on his back and not his stomach, which may not have severely injured Skeppy, but it would certainly be uncomfortable to have a demonic creature twice your size lying on top of you.
A deep rumble comes from the chest that Skeppy is being held against as Bad shuffles around to get comfortable. Bad pulls the blanket up to his shoulders, completely covering Skeppy in fabric. He moves to get up, but Bad only tightens his hold with a displeased whine. Skeppy wheezes out a breath at the bone-crushing embrace, tapping his friend’s forearm frantically.
“Too tight Bad!” He chokes out, causing Bad to release him immediately with a worried chitter. Bad puts his chin on the top of Skeppy’s head, which the black-haired man is choosing to take as an apology. He accepts it by putting a hand on top of his friend’s head and patting gently.
Bad wraps his long arms around him once more, though much more slowly now, as though his friend was carefully calculating how much pressure he could exert so as to not hurt him. Skeppy thinks it’s very cute.
Once Bad has found the perfect way to hold Skeppy against his chest without causing him any pain, the blanket is pulled back over the two of them. Originally, Skeppy’s plan was to wait for Bad to fall asleep and then climb out of bed to go get something to eat, but the deep, soothing rumbling coming from the chest pressed to his back is quickly lulling him to sleep. Not to mention the blanket blocking out all light and the fact that Bad ran hotter than an average person, being from the Nether. All of these factors combining assured that Skeppy would be out like a light in mere minutes.
It was easily the best nap he’d ever had.